


Sleep Sweet Dreams

by icedteainthebag



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-26
Updated: 2011-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams are a window to reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I surprise myself and write something that's not so dang nasty. Hope it's enjoyable.

"I'm afraid to dream," Mulder said. He gazed out the window above his desk, his elbows on his knees.

"Why?" Scully asked, clicking the television off. She sat back on the couch, watching him examine the leaves beating against the thin pane of glass. It was a sad attempt at distracting himself from the significance of his words.

"Because it's rarely good."

She thought of her dreams, bits and pieces she recollected from mornings past. She'd had her share of disturbances, peppered with scenes of sanguinity. They'd seen some of those nightmares play out in front of their very eyes. Nothing seemed impossible anymore.

"Psychologically, dreams are just a reflection of our subconscious concerns or desires, Mulder. It doesn't mean they're prophetic or at all a realistic representation of what we perceive as actually affecting our lives," Scully said.

He looked back at her, smiling and shaking his head. "You're too much sometimes."

"Hey. Do you want help or not? I'm just trying to help." She nudged her elbow against his arm. He let a soft laugh escape.

"Maybe you can help me sleep," he said.

"Do you want me to continue with the psychobabble until you fall asleep from boredom?"

"If that hasn't happened already, it never will." He shied away from her, expecting and receiving a gentle shove on his arm. "But maybe, I don't know. Would you lie down with me for awhile, just until I'm out?"

It caught her a little off guard. She raised her eyebrows with a sigh. "I could."

"Would you?"

She glanced sideways at him. "Okay. But no funny business."

"Come on, Scully. When have I ever conducted myself funnily?"

"Will you just go? Get ready and let me know when you're in bed."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Scully?" he called. It was odd, hearing him call her name from his bedroom of all places. She rose from the couch and nervously peeked around the door. Mulder was climbing into bed wearing a t-shirt and boxers. Scully repressed a sigh of relief. No funny business.

She waited until he'd settled in to take off her shoes at the side of his bed. She slid into bed, facing him. He was on his side and watched her pull the sheet and comforter up over their bodies. Scully tucked it around him and he slid his hand up under his face, resting against it and staring deeply into her eyes. She gave him a soft smile and relaxed into the pillow. Mulder smiled back.

"You can't sleep with your eyes open," she said.

"I don't want to stop looking at you," he answered, a little pout slipping past his lower lip.

"You can look at me tomorrow." She snuggled deeper into his bed.

"Promise?"

Her laugh was barely audible. "It depends on how you're looking. Now close your eyes."

Mulder sighed and did as he was told. Scully traced feather-light fingertips along the edge of his ear, his jaw line, across his lips.

"How am I supposed to sleep with you doing that?" he asked, kissing her fingers as they swept past. It made her smile more.

"Well, by not talking, for one," she answered, pressing one finger against his soft lips. "I used to do this to Charlie all the time, when we were in back of the car on family vacations. We always drove, no matter how far. It made me crazy sometimes. I always got stuck taking care of him."

"Just like you're always stuck taking care of me," he mused.

She pushed her fingers through the soft tufts of hair along his forehead, silk sliding through and escaping to be captured again in slow, methodical strokes. "I'm a doctor. That's what I do."

Mulder opened his eyes. "In that case, I'm overdue for a physical."

She tugged on his hair and he grimaced. "Not now. Now, you sleep."

"Yes, Dr. Scully," he sighed, closing them again.

She continued stroking his hair, massaging his scalp delicately. The silence provided a welcome embrace to both of them. Streetlight filtering through his window was the only reminder of a harsh outside world, waiting just beyond to send them rushing into morning yet again.

Scully's gentle movements started to take their intended effect. Sleep slowly captured him, detectable only in minutiae at first. The flutter of his eyelids and his futile struggle against it. His lips slightly parted, taking in a first settling sigh. Mulder, who'd waged war on the most despicable forces imaginable, waged war on peace as well. Like giving in meant giving up.

"Scully...stay," Mulder murmured. His breathing cycled rhythmically as he lost grasp of the few remaining tendrils of lucidity. She stroked his head lightly, her motions slowing, until her fingers finally traced down to the nape of his neck.

She observed him in beautiful repose, at long last his mind at ease.

She fell asleep with her hand there, as if the connection could keep him from pulling away from tranquility.


End file.
